Heartbeats
by Anouk Lisole
Summary: One night to be confused. One night to speed up truth. We had a promise made - four hands and then away..." WARNING: HARRY/DRACO


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This was born out of incessant listening to "Heartbeats" by Jose Gonzalez. I stayed up ALL night writing this. It made me deliriously happy. Though, come to think of it, that may have been all the coffee and not sleeping. There is very possibly a sequel to this.

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Heartbeats

Harry padded silently down another corridor under cover of night and invisibility cloak. It was a black, new moon night, and he might not have needed the cloak at all, but he couldn't take the chance of being seen by Malfoy. Though, Malfoy'd found him despite the cloak once already. Harry burned with righteous indignation thinking back on the train incident. He would have to be extra sneaky. Sneakiness was not one of Harry's strong suits.

This was getting ridiculous. Did evil never give it a rest? Harry had had a nightmare again and woke up around three in the morning. Because he observed constant vigilance (and he couldn't get back to sleep) he took out the Marauder's Map. And lo and behold, Malfoy! In the fifth floor corridor at three in the morning! That slimeball must be carrying out dastardly Death Eater deeds in the Room of Requirement, and Harry, as the hero, must find him out!

So here he was, in front of the blank stone wall which concealed the Room of Requirement, in the middle of night, and of course he could not get in because Malfoy was already inside, doing something tricksy. Well, that didn't matter, Harry thought recklessly. He would try to get in until he prevailed or the Slytherin worm came out.

Presently, there was an odd sound from within, like a distant, angry shout. Harry, thrown off his guard, walked right up to the wall and tentatively pressed his ear against it. Malfoy seemed greatly agitated. He roared wordlessly, and sometimes spat out a string of quite florid curses. Then the smashing began. Harry did not know what the room contained at present, but it sounded as if Malfoy was destroying everything he could lay hands on, hurling things around the room in a fit of black rage.

Harry had very little warning. One moment all he could hear was crunching, shattering chaos, the next - feet slapping the stone floor just on the other side of the wall. Malfoy was running to the door. Harry leaped quickly into the shadow of a pillar in great panic, and not a second too soon.

A door appeared in the wall, as if it had always been there, as it was flung open. Malfoy came hurtling out and slammed the door behind him. The door shrank in on itself and disappeared.

Malfoy was leaning up against the wall, his head thrown back, panting heavily with exertion and emotion. His face was contorted into a pained expression which Harry had never seen before. Startled by Malfoy's unusual behavior, Harry forgot for once that he was Slytherin scum, forgot everything, and watched him curiously.

Malfoy slammed a fist against the wall, and then sank down it, drawing ragged breaths. Sitting with his back pressed to the stone, he drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Harry noticed distractedly that Malfoy was much skinnier than normal; his clothes hung off his limbs in a pathetic way. The pointiness and angularity of his features were accentuated. His white blond hair, glimmering faintly in the gloom, hung lankly in his eyes. Then he did something very alarming. He began to cry.

Harry backed farther into the corner in dismay, because what was he supposed to do with this pretenseless, weeping Malfoy, looking pathetic and pitiable, like a fragile little child? Oh no. No, he had not just thought that. Pitiable? Harry realised with a jolt that, yes, he had thought that and meant it. His years of hatred seemed to melt away in the great wave of pity which washed over him. He must be mad. This sensation was so foreign. Harry thought perhaps he had never pitied anyone before, besides himself. But Malfoy was obviously at his breaking point. He didn't appear to be sleeping or eating and - Harry suddenly and perversely felt guilty - his father was in Azkaban. Malfoy had always talked about his father in a tone of utmost reverence and even - Harry hated to admit it - love.

No. No! Lucius Malfoy belonged in prison. Worse. He deserved to die. He was evil.

He's evil, Harry told himself feebly, but right now he was sleep deprived and shocked, and it was so dark that nothing seemed real. All he could see right now was how much pain Malfoy was in.

What was he to do?

Harry suddenly had an idea. An awful, insane idea, born of feelings he didn't know he was capable of.

Malfoy, he was about to say, but that wouldn't be quite right. It had to be ... friendlier.

"Draco," he whispered, trying to make his voice as soft and kind as possible, but he had never done that before. It came out rather scratchy and hoarse.

Malfoy stopped crying and stood up at once, looking about franticly, but of course he couldn't see anyone.

"Who's there?" he demanded, though he keeping his voice low.

"There's no need to panic. I'm-" What could he say? He could not possibly tell Malfoy who he was. "I'm a friend." He succeeded on putting warmth into the last word.

Malfoy looked less panicked, but now he was wary.

"Who are you? Are you a ghost?"

Harry did not know how to answer that.

"I am ... simply concerned. It's not important who I am."

"Right. Well ... If you don't mind, _friend_, I'm going back to my dormitory." Malfoy turned to leave.

"Wait!" Harry was almost too loud. He had to be careful. "Why were you crying?"

Malfoy stiffened.

"I wasn't crying."

Typical Malfoy. Harry was almost annoyed, but he would've said the same thing.

"I won't tell anyone. I want to help." Help? Help? What was he saying? He couldn't _help_. Malfoy was working for Voldemort!

Malfoy's bottom lip was trembling. Harry had the sudden urge to put his finger on it and say, "Shh," soothingly, but of course he could not do that.

Malfoy made an attempt to look his usual proud self, but could not quite pull it off.

"It's a very important secret, entrusted solely to me. I can't go telling everyone I meet. Thank you for your ... concern." He made a tiny bow. That was something Harry had never seen before. "Goodnight."

"Don't go!" Harry said urgently, taking a step forward. "I'm lonely," he said without stopping to think, and then realised it was true.

Malfoy paused and turned to look in his general direction again.

"You seem ... lonely ... too."

Malfoy swallowed hard. He did look lonely. Harry could see in his eyes that he was very alone and afraid, and wanted someone to talk to. He began to cry again, but this time without the anger.

"I can't tell anyone!" he said. Harry moved a bit closer. "I - I have to do this all by myself. I _have_ to do it, or he'll kill them!"

"Kill who?" Harry asked, alarmed, but still as kindly as he knew how.

Malfoy looked up, realising the voice was closer.

"My - my mother and father." His voice broke on the last word, and before he knew what he was doing, Harry had come as close to Malfoy as he could without touching him.

"I'm so sorry," he said, and meant it with everything in him. Then, because he was utterly mad, he said, "Don't be scared," and put his arms around Malfoy, crushing him to his chest.

Malfoy tensed at first, but realising that, whoever it was, he was warm and human and unarmed, he relaxed against Harry, resting his forehead on Harry's shoulder. Harry could feel Malfoy's bony frame and was reinforced in his perception that Malfoy was far too skinny. He wanted to tell him he should eat more often. He wanted to protect him. Malfoy cried for a bit, and Harry, wonderingly, stroked the back of his neck, gentler than he'd ever been with anyone in his life, occasionally saying, "Shh, it'll be all right," because that was what one said to a crying person.

"Who are you?" Malfoy finally asked again. "Why are you even here?"

Harry made an odd, sad "Hm" noise he had never had occasion to make before.

"I'm just a boy who's as scared as you."

Malfoy looked up to where he knew, by touch, Harry's face was.

Harry looked into Malfoy's grey eyes, not narrowed with hate like normal, but wide and glistening with tears. He felt again the strange longing to protect him.

Malfoy very, very cautiously brought his hand up to Harry's cheek and ever so lightly rested it there. Then he ran his fingers along Harry's jaw and let them slip off his chin. Harry thought wildly that Malfoy actually had very beautiful features, even if he was too skinny and a bit pointy, and with the white blond hair he was almost, sort of pretty, and suddenly his face was so close that it was blurry. Harry gulped.

"I -" Malfoy whispered, and then his lips were on Harry's, kissing him fiercely, and Harry was kissing him back, this was utter madness, but Malfoy's lips were so soft, were boy's lips supposed to be that soft? and he had one hand tangled up in Malfoy's hair, trying to press him closer. Malfoy had a grip on Harry's t-shirt and was twisting it. Harry's glasses were digging into the bridge of his nose, not that he minded that, but they were sort of impeding Harry's access to Malfoy's face, and that really was just unacceptable. Malfoy seemed to have realised this, too, for he reached up with his free hand to take them off - and went completely still.

Harry felt Malfoy's face go blank, felt the flutter of eyelashes as Malfoy's eyes snapped open, felt Malfoy's skin drop about ten degrees in temperature, and realised, with horror, what Malfoy had just realised.

Malfoy grasped Harry's glasses tightly and pushed himself violently away. He looked down with slow agony at what he was holding, not believing it.

"Take. Off. The cloak. Potter," he said with dreadful iciness.

Harry could not see what else he could do. He could not see much of anything, in fact. He drew off the cloak.

"Explain. Now." But before Harry could speak, Malfoy continued. "Is this some kind of joke? A trick? Your newest idiotic scheme-"

"No!" Harry finally got out.

"Then _what_?"

"I -" Harry started, but he did not know what to say. He had to make Malfoy understand. He _had_ to.

"You _what_, exactly? Thought you'd humiliate me into the dust? Well, bravo, Potter! You've succeeded! You can go back and tell your little fan club that Draco Malfoy goes about snogging strange men in the middle of the night! You just might not want to mention you were one of them!"

Malfoy hurled Harry's glasses at the wall with all his strength, where they shattered.

"Good luck getting back to your dormitory, Potter," he spat, turned on his heel, and began to storm away.

"Wait!" Harry said desperately, and he was desperate. "Please, Malfoy, don't go, let me explain - _Please_!" He ran after him and, because he was blind without his glasses, smacked into him, and they both toppled over, ending up with Harry pinning Malfoy to the ground.

"Get off me, you great brute!"

Harry did not budge.

"Just let me explain. Please, Malfoy. I didn't want to hurt you or humiliate you or anything."

"You have thirty seconds, Potter, before I curse your stupid face off."

"Right. OK. Well."

"Twenty-seven seconds."

"Yeah, all right, so I was - I was in my dormitory, and I couldn't sleep, so I was looking at the Marauder's Map-"

"The what?" Malfoy clearly thought these were the ravings of deranged poof.

"It's a map of Hogwarts that shows all the people in it, wherever they are."

"Oh, this explains so much, you lucky bastard." It was possible Harry had only intensified Malfoy's hatred.

"Er, so I was looking at the Marauder's Map, and I saw you were up here on the fifth floor, and I thought that was really shifty, so obviously I had better see what you were up to-"

"Obviously. What _would_ the world do without you."

"Look, that's not the point-"

"Oh, I think it is! Obviously, if _I_ was out of bed at night, it could only be that I am practising Dark Magics which-"

"Well," Harry said uncomfortably, "aren't you?"

"That is not the point, Potter! And it's none of your business! And your thirty seconds are up! Get off!"

"But I didn't finish-"

"I don't care!"

"But you kept interrupting me!"

"Fine!" Malfoy snarled savagely. "Finish your story and then leave me alone!"

"All right!" Harry snarled back. "Where was I?"

"You were about to vanquish the evil that is Draco Malfoy."

"Right. So - so I came up here, and then you ..."

Malfoy bit his lip and looked away from Harry.

"You were sort of ... in a rage about something, and then - then you came out of the Room of Requirement and ... and..."

"Yes. And."

"Right. And. And I ... I felt sorry for you."

"Oh," Malfoy sneered, "I am _worthy_ enough to earn the condescensions of the noble Harry Potter. Well, I don't _need_ your pity!"

"That's not what I meant!"

"Of course it is!"

"I didn't - I didn't hate you!"

"I'm sure it's difficult for your limited brain to comprehend more than one emotion -"

"Would you stop being so unpleasant for one minute!? I know you can!"

Malfoy shut his mouth and simply glared.

"I just ... You were so frustrated, and I felt ... maybe we weren't so different. And I ... I wanted to protect you." Harry muttered the last bit embarassedly.

Malfoy looked stunned.

"And you thought you would accomplish this by giving me a concussion," he tried to sneer, but it was a feeble attempt.

Harry was hovering quite close over Malfoy - so close he could feel his heartbeat. Malfoy's heart beat quicker than Harry's, but then again that may have been because their intense proximity. Harry wished the beats would sync and beat together. He had the distant feeling that that would be a nice symbolism, because Harry was rather heavy-handed with literary devices.

"I know we're both ... confused," Harry said as softly as possible, hovering a few centimeters above Malfoy's face.

"We can't -" Malfoy protested very half-heartedly.

"I was just ... thinking -"

"Don't," Malfoy said. "You're not very good at it."

And closed the gap between them, kissing Harry for the second time that night. Only this time they were lying down, and Harry was ready for it, and it was much gentler at first, and so much nicer the second time around. Malfoy's lips parted under his, and Harry's teeth clicked against his, but it was all right, they were neither of them very experienced, and they just went on, practically incapable of stopping now.

Harry slid his tongue into Malfoy's mouth, which was hot and tasted mildly sugary, and Malfoy twisted his own tongue around Harry's. Harry breathed sharply through his nose. Malfoy's hands were under his shirt, scraping along his ribs, gripping his hips, it was wonderful, awful, almost unbearable. Harry had one hand at the back of Malfoy's head, cushioning it from the stone floor. The other he curved around Malfoy's waist and pressed into the small of his back.

He did not realise this would draw Malfoy's hips up to collide with his own, and the sensation was - well, it was indecent, it shouldn't be allowed, and Harry groaned, which made Malfoy do it again, and Harry felt Malfoy's mouth curve against his own in what he was sure was the smirk of the very wicked.

But a playful smirk. One Harry thought he might've caught a glimpse of in Quidditch matches when Malfoy didn't know Harry was looking. Harry felt the beginnings of fond exasperation. There was so much more to Malfoy than he had ever known. And he wanted to know it all, now. He wanted to know how his mouth curved when he was happy, or tired, or playing an excellent prank.

Harry very carefully did not think about the things he suspected Malfoy of - what he had wanted to know only an hour or two ago. He let all thought go and existed only in this perfect moment which might never come again.

And their heartbeats shared one rhythm, speaking for them the words they could never say.


End file.
